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Confrontation on Vilnacron
Log Title: Confrontation on Vilnacron Characters: Ar-Gent Silverfinger, Deathsaurus, Miasma, Overlord, Sci-Nide Location: Vilnacron Station Bar Date: August 8, 2019 TP: Nucleosis TP Summary: Deathsaurus asks to meet with Ar-Gent again, this time with new information. Category:2019 Category:Logs As logged by '' Ar-Gent Silverfinger '''Log session starting at 18:42:23 on Thursday, 8 August 2019.' Deathsaurus is at the booth he was at before, waiting for Ar-Gent to arrive. He has his arms crossed but seems calm , still. Showing some signs of altercation, the newly forged Decepticon Miasma is with Deathsaurus. Its obvious that she does not like the casino and bar, the way that her eyes constantly dart around, or change colors, indicating apparently her stress levels. Not to mention the scans she had to tolerate due to the psychosonorum tank on her back. Currently her red eye is in charge, so she's fuming but not outright manic yet. "i'LL KILL THEM AND EVERYONE ON THIS MISERABLE SCRAP...." Okay its a bit louder than a grumble, but the table is secluded, so her psychosis isn't really getting attention from the bouncers Ar-Gent Silverfinger strides confidently into the bar, waving to the bouncers and the bartender, taking his time to order a drink before looking around to see if there's anybody waiting for him to show tonight. Deathsaurus places a hand on Miasma's shoulder. "Peace. We have came for a peaceful discussion. We do not need to fight. Yet. And might not need to." he motions to Ar-Gent and gives a no to him, as if inviting him to the booth Ar-Gent Silverfinger nods back to Deathsaurus, waiting long enough to accept his drink from the bartender before strolling over to sit at the table. "So! What's so important that brings you back to me so soon?" Overall, Miasma is a pretty small Decepticon, in the minicon size. She clenches her fists, "tHERE IS NO PEACE AS LONG AS MY ORDERS HAVE NOT BEEN FULF-" Suddenly her eye swaps out to purple again, causing her to slump awkwardly in mid sentence. " Guuuhhhhhhhhhhh...." Noxious green gas, pure psychosis inducing psychosonorum vents from her mask. At least she isn't disrupting the conversation. The right eye of Miasma rolls back to a magenta color, the femme sags listlessly moments later. Deathsaurus looks to Miasma "We are working on fulfilling your orers. Thats what this is about." he pulls up a datapad and a picture of Shuttle Gunner. "This was the 'Decepticon' at the site. I understand it is not one of ours.. but one of yours. You have some explaining to do, Siverfinger-San." Ar-Gent Silverfinger arches an optic ridge. "Not one of yours? He bears the Decepticon badge. Fought on your side. Shot at me, even." Deathsaurus pauses. "That was a ruse, Ar-Gent. That color scheme b elongs to one of yours." He leans in "But perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps me and a a few of my troops could check Spaceball-1 ourselves. That would ease some of our suspicions." Overlord strides into the main bar of Vilnacron Station, not necessarily like he owns the place but as if he might consider taking an option on it. He moves with his shoulders back, eyes forward and walks as if he's got murder on his mind and he's looking for the likeliest candidate in the room. Miasma just sort of sits there for a few moments longer.... Miasma's right eye rolls around and swaps to the Green eye. A hissing growl emenates from the Decepticon. Ar-Gent Silverfinger sighs, taking a sip of his drink and lounging in his chair across from Deathsaurus. "And what would doing that prove? Quite seriously, I am pleased you believe I have the resources to bother infiltrating the Empire at that level, but rather insulted you'd think I'd find it necessary." Deathsaurus is at a booth with Miasma and Argent. A datapad is on the table. It seems hes gathering his bullyboys together. "ts not the empire you'd h ave to infiltrate. Just Harmonex. Prove it to me, Argent. Prove you are not responsible." Miasma raises her head, her green eye in place now. She doesn't speak, obviously thinking about the situation at hand, especially with the way her eyes dart to Ar-Gent and away. Overlord makes his way to where Deathsaurus is sitting with Miasma and Argent. Once he's in front of the booth, he looks down at the datapad on the table and reaches out to take it. Or to push it onto the floor. He hasn't decided yet. Ar-Gent Silverfinger smirks. "I've been told it's impossible to prove a negative." He takes another sip of his drink, looking entirely at ease. "Well, the cat and mouse was fun, but I suppose it's time for the big reveal." He spreads his hands. "Why, yes, of course I stole them. A chance to get a nice feature for my garden and to set two opposing factions at each other's throats! A good day's work. I even have a little dog waiting for his master to come save him, with a dramatic pit trap all prepared. It'll be a glorious cinematic." He side-eyes Overlord but just puts his feet up on the table brazenly rather than look frightened. But then again, it's a bar with some of the toughest bouncers this side of a black hole. Deathsaurus pauses. "I give you one chance." he spreads his wings in a threatening manner. "Return them. All of them. The statue, the dog. I will have al of them in my posession. Or there will be an invasion." Miasma very coolly remarks, "I want my Spymaster...." her gaze level and creepy. Of course, Ar-Gent knows all about malformed sidekicks with novel penchants for skullduggery. If anything, she probably is giving him an idea for another clone henchman. Ar-Gent Silverfinger tips his glass in a salute to Deathsaurus. "It's a good glower, I'll grant you that. Very threatening. But I'm a businessmech. I cut deals. You want them, you pay for them. Or your spymaster can go boom." Overlord chuckles. "I simply want to pound you into the ground," he says, though it's not clear who exactly he's talking to. It could very well be Deathsaurus. Or the temptingly minibot-sized newcomer. Ohhh, she makes his feet itch...no,no, he's here for work, there's time for pleasure later. "...how much is your life worth to you?" Deathsaurus narrows his optics. "They may be rigged to explode." he sighs. If only he had some competant spies to release. "I dont think you are in any position to argue. But humor me. What is it you want for them?" Ar-Gent Silverfinger smirks at Overlord. "Oh, I value my own life quite highly, which is why we're in a bar with competent enforcers." He nods to Deathsaurus. "Haven't I said often enough what I want? Shall I ask for more?" Deathsaurus growls, his wings moving back to reveal a rather large gun and wings lined with razor sharp blades. "You will not be getting gestalt technology from me or any of my soldiers." Deathsaurus adds "Why dont we step...outside." well he'll try that. Miasma's right eye rolls around and swaps to the Red eye. A piercing shriek fills the air as chemicals hiss into steam. Ar-Gent Silverfinger laughs. "I wasn't built yesterday," he says, a bit smugly. "Do you really think I came to a meeting with a possible enemy alone?" Miasma raises her head at Ar-Gent's remark. She /was/ forged just a few astroweeks ago. Overlord smiles. "I'd be happy to see if I could merge you and your soldiers together," he says. "It could be fun. The humans do something similar, something about a centipede or something?" As if on cue a tall, lanky mech steps through the door with a large circluar reflector attached to a strap around his forehead. His once white paintscheme has faded to grey mottled by carious colored splotches; some of which are even describable using normal terms. Oh, and what looks like a cannon of some sort pointed towards the ceiling over his shoulder. He wends his way through the bar towards Ar-Gent, a small, huncbacked figure ambling along behind him. "I do hope I'm not late to the festivities," he offers. Ar-Gent Silverfinger removes his feet from the table in order to stand and bow to Sci-Nide slightly. "Maybe a little. You missed my gloat, but you're in time for the posturing." He turns back to the Decepticons. "Gentlemen, my crazed associate, Sci-Nide. Sci-Nide, these are Deathsaurus, Overlord, and, ah, a femme that didn't bother to introduce herself, sadly. My dear, care to give me a name? Just because we're all threatening to kill each other doesn't mean we can't be polite." Deathsaurus chuckles. "That is our chemical specialist Miasma." he says. "Our sides are even. Lets step outside now and discuss the liberation of my statue and dog." Ar-Gent Silverfinger bows in Miasma's direction. "Pleased to meet you, Miasma." He chuckles back at Deathsaurus. "Yours? I believe that there's another faction out there that would contest such a statement. Particularly the dog, yes? I would so hate to deprive the young Autobot of an opportunity to play the hero." Overlord sighs. "..talk is cheap, let's just beat the hell out of each other, then we can take Deathsaurus's lawn ornament home," he says. Deathsaurus tilts his head. He keeps all four of his optics focused on the group before him. "Mine." he says. "The moment you dishonored us with your lies, you lost all property rights to the dog and the statues." Sci-Nide quirks an optic ridge. "I've heard Ar-Gent called many things, some of them even true, but I've never known him to lie. Also, possession does happen to be defined by whom owns the object and what laws it is subect to. As we have both the lawn ornament and make the laws where it currently resides you have no ground to stand upon.... and that may be very true in a literal sense very, very shortly." Ar-Gent Silverfinger arches an optic ridge at Sci-Nide and takes out an enercig to light it. "I told you the truth. You filled in the gaps with what you wanted to believe." He tilts his head slightly at Overlord. "The lawn ornament is currently decorating my lawn. As in, it is not here. And if you try to take it by force, we can deny it to everybody. It's not like I have a personal stake in the survival of the two involved." Deathsaurus 's optics narrow. He takes a deep vent for a moment. "Withholding information is pretty much the same thing. The time for debate is over. It is tie to take back what is ours. Unharmed." Sci-Nide grins at Deathsaurus. ""A truth that's told with bad intent; Beats all the lies you can Invent." Overlord glances at Deathsaurus. "...well, someone will get harmed," he says, looking back to Ar-Gent and his cronies. "..starting with the one who talks in rhyme, swear to Primus..." Ar-Gent Silverfinger takes a long drag on his enercig. "Well, why don't we arrange an appointment, then? You can come by, we can fight, and this establishment here can continue to serve its purpose without being blown up simply by being in the way." Deathsaurus tilts his head. "You take me for a fool. I can't believe I still letting you negotiate. Very well. AN appointment. How is immediately. Wherever you are holding the statues?" Sci-Nide taps his chin, "That can be arranged; so long as you agreed to being frozen in Carbonite to join them so that your troops have even higher stakes to play for. That seems only fair if you want to be immediately taken to them; don't you think Ar-gent?" Ar-Gent Silverfinger nods. "Mutually inconvenient for all parties involved. A perfect compromise." Deathsaurus blinks "You want to join the statue?" he chuckles. "What makes me think you' keep your end of the bargain after all of this." his wings fold around himself. Sci-Nide points to Ar-Gent. "He is a business man, and there can certainly be a contract. Just as we have offered to hand over our information regarding the Neucleosis virus, and the staues, I believe; if our terms are met." The mad scientist flexes his fingers, "We are villains, but that doesn't mean we aren't out to better our lot, and solid business does wonders for funding and research opportunities..." Ar-Gent Silverfinger nods. "In the end, you can't know anything for certain until it's been tested. We make our choices and we roll the dice." Deathsaurus rubs his head. He tilts his head as if considering. "You woul gain a new statue." he says. "What would we gain in return?" Ar-Gent Silverfinger smirks. "A fight right now, instead of at a future date, yes? That was the offer." Deathsaurus pauses. "If you would give me a few minutes to converse with my soldiers, I believe this can be arranged." <> Sci-Nide says, "Have we tried contacting the Combaticons on our own?" You mutter to Sci-Nide, "We get to warm up the cryogenic chamber." Ar-Gent Silverfinger mutters to Sci-Nide, "We get... the cryogenic..." <> Ar-Gent Silverfinger says, "Unfortunately, no. I haven't run across any recently. It's like they're in hiding." <> Sci-Nide says, "I'll have to see what I can manage. They may be willing to deal with us, if what I have heard about the one called Swindle is correct." <> Ar-Gent Silverfinger says, "Probably." Deathsaurus nods "Unless you'd like more time afterall." Ar-Gent Silverfinger laughs. "Well, it's up to you. If you're willing, we can be on our way." Sci-Nide nods to Ar-Gent and looks over at the Decepticons. "I do have experiments to run, atoms to smash, and serums to inject. While it would be enjoyable to see how you would freeze up; my time can be better spent preparing things for your arrival. And you do seem rather unprepared for any of my machines..." Deathsaurus chuckles. "It would be ood for both of us to..prepare. Tell me when and I will be ready." Ar-Gent Silverfinger grins. "Excellent! I'll go roll out the welcome mat and refreshments. What do you think, come by around teatime?" Deathsaurus nods "I'll be ready for the call." He bows his head. "I look forwar to doing...business with you." Weird that he agrees to this. Log session ending at 21:49:52 on Thursday, 8 August 2019.